n Wolf River. Him an' that there Jennie Dodds that
used to work in the hotel's got married an' filed along the crick, 'bout
four mile above McWhorter's."

Purdy laughed harshly: "Cinnabar, eh? Well, when the time comes, I'll
just naturally tap him fer his pile. I've got somethin' on that bird.
He's mine."

Cass Grimshaw eyed Purdy coldly: "I said _he's right_. D'you git that?
Meanin' that him, an' his stock, an' his wife, an' everything he's got
is safe an' sound fer as this gang's concerned. He ain't in on
nothin'--same as McWhorter. Only--he don't know nothin'--see? An' if any
of us wants anythin' an' he's goin' to town--all right."

"But, I've be'n aimin' to make him come acrost for over a year, an'----"

"An', now you c'n fergit it! Friends is worth more'n enimies, anyways
you look at it--'special,' in our business. That makes jest eighty-three
ranches, big an little, that the Grimshaw gang counts friends. That's
why we git away with it. They's be'n times when most any of 'em could of
said the word that would of got posses on to us--an' I've made it right
with all of 'em. We don't owe none of 'em nothin'. Why they's plenty of
sheriffs, much as they want to git me, wouldn't bushwhack me--not fer
all the reward money they is, 'cause they know they's be'n times when I
could of got 'em easy, an' didn't. I don't hold it agin' 'em. My rule is
never kill a posse man or a sheriff onless it gits right down to you an'
him fer it. They're doin' their duty accordin' to law--an' the laws has
got to be uphelt--er this would be a hell of a country to live in--fer
most folks." The man ceased speaking and Purdy maintained silence. The
subject of Cinnabar Joe was never mentioned again.

It was not long, however, before Purdy once more fell in the way of
Grimshaw's displeasure. He came into the hang-out late one evening. The
five were playing poker upon a blanket spread upon the floor between the
swinging lamps, but instead of joining them, Purdy seated himself with
his back to the wall, rolled a cigarette, and smoked in silence. A few
deals went around, bets were made, and pots raked in. Grimshaw shuffled
the deck slowly with a sidewise glance toward Purdy: "They say
McWhorter's gal's to home," he announced, casually. Purdy said nothing.
Grimshaw dealt, picked up his hand, examined it minutely, and tossed the
cards onto the blanket. "How about it, Purdy?"

"You seem to know," answered the other, surlily.

"Yes," answered the l